Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1887-04-15
An Unexpected Result.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

MARY Maryl"
The landlady's voice echoed shrillv
down the deserted hallway of the
Kings Cross hotel.
Deserted, VIC say, for at this time Of
the year little travelling patronage was
vouchsafcd to Kings Cross.
The postmaster boarded at the hotel,
and the town clerk had a room there,
and the farmers dined there Of market
days (Which only came once week.,
but the arrival Of a real live guest from
the railway station, four miles away,
always created futtcr.
Kings Cross was dreary little
hamlet, scattered in an inconsequent
fashion, along the ragged Maryland
coast, with round lighthouse, whose
eye Of revolving flame gllred wickedly
out to sea Of stormy nights; there was
bathing beach, moro or less washed
away by the caprcious tides, and an
irregular street of old stone houses and
wooden cottages.
There was a post office, a village store,
and an ancient stone church, whose
graveyard, on steep silo hill, seemed
TO be slipping down the bank, in a sue
cession Of rude terraces, until its down
ward course was promptly arrested by
hedge of gnarled and hoary yew, at the
foot.
And this was Kings -Cross-ono of the
oldest and ugiest villages on the Mary
land coast.
Mary say, Mary, where are you9o
Once more Mrs. Yorle's voice sent its
cracked burden down the paved hall, and
a tall, pretty girl came huEriedly up.
through the tail, purple spikes of the
iilac-trees in the ba k garden.
Were you calling me, Mrs. Yorker
Oh, l am very sorry, but"
calling your Mrs. York put her
hand plaintivcly to her throat, and
rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling, by
way of evincing great mental and physi-
cal prostration. Calling youl And
where, may venture to ask, have you
been2"
Mary Fo'yott was pale, violet-eyed
! girl, with hair of the real S,cteh sold, a
delicate profile, AMI scu i've red lips.
IL have been to the g av yard"
she murmured, "with some wild roses
and white lilies. Oh, Mrs. Yorke, par
don mel ran both ways; but it was
Decoration Day, and did not want his
grave to be desolatc and neglected,
while every one elsc's was loaded with
/ flowers"
Mary Folyott Pm surprised at your!
said Mrs Yorke. 'Hes $ dead and bur
led, and, by all accounts, though Inever
saw the young man, you couldn't treat
him dccenty VIII lie he was living.
don't think it signifi $ much about flow
er} now that he's gone. And you're
here, | beg you to remember, to work
for me, and not to carry flowers to other
folkses' gravcsp
Mary Folyott hung her head but she
was well accustomed to eat the bitter
bread of dependence.
How brief a while ago it was that she
was the petted darling of ,rtunel Now,
orphaned, penniless and alone she was
drudge-in-chief to Mrs. Yorkc, Of the
Kings Cross Hotel, her fathers second
cousin.
"Como, max ha,tol' said Mrs. Yorke.
There a gentleman came in the nine
O'Clock stage. He's in Number Nno-
t en-, and he wants his breakfast, and
old Cassy's got the toothache and won t
ift finger. Str up some muflias and
fry some eggs, there's dear, and I'll be
broiling chicken and getting the coffee
ready"
Mechanically Mary obeyed. 1t was
rather mono.onous life for girl Of
Eighteen; but after all Mrs. Yolke was
fairly kind in her way when there was
no especial hurry and when Cas,y, the
cook, did not aggravate her or Mr..
Ycrke give way to his particular failing
Of too much Bourbon whiskey.
Mary stood in the cool shadows of the
vine leaves that veiled the milk-room
window, listening to the rush of the surf
on the shore, and watching the robins
dart in and out of the old button-bal
trees, and stirred the English mullins
with busy fingers, while her thoughts
went sorrowfully back to the grave under
the shadow of the ycw hedge, where she
had left the white lilies and the crushed
heap of fragrant roses.
''Not even a sunbeam !" she had said.
rebelliOusly, as she pushed back the
gray-green yew, breaking off the
branches and bending back the spurs in
a sort of hot anger. ''He shall have sun
shine on his grave-to-day, at least"
And as Mary worked, the slow tears
trickled one by one down her cheek.
She had loved Hugh Derby very dear
ly, but she had a eoquettish element
through her nature-like most women.
npfort,1p a afalx-apd he hed c,opa a,,,o,, . =